There and Back Again
by Cruellae
Summary: To Garrus, there was no beginning, only a path towards the inevitable, an irresistible force, and he was not the only one pulled into her orbit.  She was such a small, fragile creature, to hold the fate of the universe in her hands.
1. Chapter 1

Jane Shepard could pinpoint the exact moment it started.

It started in the hold of the Normandy, next to the Mako, that poor, bruised and battered husk of a car. She was there and Garrus was there too, but no one else, which was strange. And he was standing close to her, so close…

He lifted a talon and traced the line of her cheekbone. It seemed so tender, the light touch across her skin, and she looked up at him. Their foreheads touched and she found she didn't need to say a single word.

He looked at her, a question, a request, and in return she slipped out of the uniform she was wearing and let it fall to the floor. He looked her over, appraising, and she was glad to see hunger in his eyes, not disgust.

Beneath his own armor he was slender, lean, all long, plated limbs and torso. His skin was a soft gray, with almost a metallic hint of shine at the edges of his plates and along his fringe. She stepped towards him—so bold! it was utterly unlike her, but the feeling of being in control was both reassuring and sexy.

She let her hands wander over him, caressing, stroking. She wasn't surprised by what she'd seen under his clothes, basic training had covered alien anatomy. Her N7 training had gone into more depth about alien physiology, but if she had learned there how to hurt an opponent, the flip side of that knowledge meant she knew which parts of his body would respond if she were to caress him.

He seemed to know a thing or two about humans as well, caressing her breasts and grabbing her ass, his fingers leathery and surprisingly warm. She shuddered as he pushed her against the wall, his rough plating making her nipples stand at attention. She wrapped her legs around his waist and…

…and woke, suddenly, in her own bed, which was certainly not the hold of the Normandy. The dream remained in her body, throbbing between her legs.

She reached for the figure next to her and was almost disappointed to feel warm flesh and muscle beneath her hand instead of rough plates and leathery hide. Kaiden sighed in his sleep and turned over to face away from her.

She lay on her back and let the dream wash over her, trying to remember each detail, but the further she slipped from sleep, the more the dream became just a dream, not the vibrant, earth-shaking, sexy reality it had seemed.

And why was she having dreams about Garrus? As the dream left her, she wondered. The turian had become one of her closest friends in the desperate chase for Saren, and he'd stood by her side on the Citadel when they'd taken him down.

"You trust him more than me," was one of Kaiden's favorite things to throw at her when they argued, and in some ways it was true.

But it was a long way from trust and battlefield camaraderie to "let's get freaky on the Mako."

_It's just a dream, _she told herself. _It doesn't mean anything._


	2. Chapter 2

Garrus Vakarian could not have said when it began, only that it crept into his life, gradual and inevitable, so subtly that he did not realize what had happened to him until it was too late to turn back.

It was the gun that opened his eyes.

"Go ahead, open it," said Sidonis, mandibles flared in a grin. They were all there, all of his squad, in their heavily barricaded base, throwing back drinks to celebrate their latest success.

"What's this?" Garrus murmured, as a big and heavy package was thrust at him. It was covered in some kind of shiny colorful paper, with a large bow on top.

"We all pitched in and got you a present," said the batarian, in a tone that sounded like he was threatening a disobedient vorcha, but Garrus knew that was his 'happy' voice.

"This is wrapping paper," said one of the humans sitting near him. "It's to decorate gifts. But don't worry, you can tear it right off."

"Wrapping paper?" said Garrus. He regarded the package with some suspicion. "You guys shouldn't have gone to all this trouble for me."

"Look, just open it," said the batarian, scowling. "Before we decide to take it back."

Tentatively, Garrus slid a talon across the colorful paper, shredding it away to reveal a plastic case. His breath caught as he undid the clasps and opened the case. Within it, lying on a folded black cloth, was the most beautiful sniper rifle he had ever seen. Its make was clearly quality, though somewhat unfamiliar, and he could swear he'd never seen this particular model advertised before.

"It's not on the market just yet," wheezed the volus sitting nearby. "But you can get anything on Omega."

"I…I don't know what to say," said Garrus, his talons never leaving the smooth surface as he regarded the men before him. His men. His team. "Thank you. This is…amazing."

"Gonna name it Angel?" said one of the humans, the one Garrus suspected was responsible for his unfortunate nickname.

He shook his head and smiled. There was only one name for a rifle this beautiful.

_Jane._

He lay in bed that night, watching the rifle gleam in the light pouring in from the street. It was always dim on Omega, but never truly dark, always twilight. Just like his life had been for the past year and a half, ever since…

It still hurt, just as much as it always had, to think of her. But in a way, he was glad for the sudden stabs of pain, glad to see they hadn't faded with time into a dull ache. It seemed like a betrayal to him, to let her memory fade and fill the huge gap she'd left behind.

He knew better, but he still couldn't stop from feeling betrayed on her behalf as all of their friends moved on with their lives. Tali went back to the Flotilla, Wrex to Tuchanka to unite his people, and Alenko, Alenko who should be carrying this torch, had worked his way quickly up the Alliance chain of command.

Alenko, who'd let her die.

The rational part of him knew, it was nobody's fault, no one could have saved her. But it did not keep him from feeling as though he should have been there, that if he'd been by her side, he might have saved her.


	3. Chapter 3

"You've got all the time in the world. Archangel…not so much." Aria's words were casual but her hint of a smile made Shepard think there was more to the story, something Aria was holding back.

She nodded, deciding not to press the issue. Aria had been surprisingly helpful, and Shepard was also surprised to find she actually rather liked Omega's 'queen'. Perhaps it was just that Aria had been utterly unimpressed when Shepard showed up, a refreshing change of pace.

There was a pile of bodies at the edge of a long bridge, a turian sniper nestled in the building above. Shepard grimaced. It was too much like Torfan.

"And they called me a butcher," she muttered. Miranda nodded, grim. Of course Miranda knew what she meant—Miranda knew everything that had ever been recorded about Jane Shepard.

As they listened to the mercs making plans, Shepard thought over the dossier she'd been given on Archangel. He was a tactical genius, that much was obvious, meticulously planned hits on the trickiest of mercenary operations. But something had changed, recently. He'd gone from working with a team to suicidal solo attacks on merc leaders.

Shepard knew better than to think Archangel had gotten stupid…it was more like he was reckless. The Butcher of Torfan knew well enough what it looked like when a soldier was courting death. When you couldn't pull the trigger yourself, but it didn't matter because there was a whole galaxy out there happy to do it for you.

_Well, at least he won't have any problem with a suicide mission_, she thought, and stepped into the fire.

And when Garrus Vakarian emerged from beneath Archangel's helmet, she'd wanted to hug him frantically and kick him out the window at the same time, angry and desperate that her best friend had fallen so far.

She'd meant for Garrus to go far, had personally recommended him as a Spectre, and when she died, he'd been in training.

How did he end up here, lost on Omega, inches away from the death he'd been seeking?

And then there was the gunship, the smoke and fire and the clawing panic in the pit of her stomach when she saw him go down. She cradled his head against her chest, barely noticing the blue blood staining her armor.

Kneeling on the floor she noticed things with an unusual clarity, the tone of his skin, the exhaustion on his face, the peculiar texture of his clan markings.

"It's my damn ship, Chakwas," she yelled, voice trembling.

The doctor remained calm, unflappable. "Yes, well, it's my damn med bay, and I say get out." The older woman put a hand on Shepard's shoulder, steering her towards the door. "If you want to help him, get cleaned up and get some rest so you can see him when he wakes up."

Shepard stripped off her armor, placing it into a neat pile in her cabin. She resisted the urge to cry, scream, or throw her helmet at the fish tank to see just how strong the glass really was. Instead she dressed and walked downstairs, to sit in the mess and wait.

Jacob brought her a cup of hot tea, and sat at the table across from her, not saying anything.

"Thanks," she finally made herself say.

"Don't mention it," he replied. He looked towards the med bay. "So he's your old teammate, huh?"

"Yeah. He was there when we took down Saren on the Citadel."

"A damn hero, in my book. I'm sure he'll be fine, Commander."

"Did Kelly send you down here?" asked Shepard.

Jacob grinned. "Naw," he said. "Do you think she'd send someone else and miss the chance to give you sympathetic hugs?"

"I guess not," said Shepard. "It's just…it's hard to know what's genuine. With you, and Miranda, and the rest of the crew. How much you mean and how much is just Cerberus, trying to manipulate me into the perfect position."

"Look, I know you have a right to be suspicious. But Cerberus gives me fighting orders. My personal actions are my own business."

Shepard nodded. She wasn't sure if she was ready to believe it just yet, but she would give it some thought.

"Look," he said, "Chakwas gave me a message for you, when you got back. Garrus took a bad hit back there. Best they can tell, he'll have full functionality, but…"

Garrus stepped out of med bay and both humans turned to regard him.

"No one would give me a mirror," he said to Shepard. "How bad is it?"


End file.
